At The End Of The Day
by SilverArtemisKO
Summary: What does Dr. Spencer Reid do when he is not at his job? Reid-like things, of course. But does he also do non-Reid like things, like wandering the streets alone? A character study on the good doctor.


**A/N: Hey, dear reader. I should warn you, that this is not a 'story' in the general sense. It's a peek at our favorite genius's mind (on one of his unfortunate days, sadly). I hope you like it. Drop a line to tell me whether you did or not! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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><p>The music was too loud. The crowd- too noisy. All around him there was laughter, and shrieks, and talking, and flirting, and touching, and of course, drinking.<p>

'Can a buy you a drink?', a voice said.

He turned to see a brunette, maybe in her mid-20s. Her beauty was aggressive, and she was wearing an expression as if daring him to say, 'That's a guy's line'.

'Thank you, but I don't drink.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Then why are you in a bar?'

That was a very good question. Why WAS he here?

Well, he knew.

It's because it was one of those days.

And Dr. Spencer Reid was helpless.

Spencer Reid has always been…alone. More or less. This tends to happen when you're a genius with an IQ of 187 who goes to college at 13. You don't have a chance to make friends like normal people. And the fact that your mom is a schizophrenic and your dad is AWOL does not help.

But all that was old news. Spencer never let himself join the pity party with the sob story of every genius printed on the metaphorical invitation card- 'Poor me, everyone thinks I'm a freak'. No, he has been lucky. He had a set of excellent friends- more like family, and to be honest he had never needed friends.

He read. He thought about maths. He gathered knowledge, soaking it up like a dry sponge. He immersed himself in it. And now he had his job, and he liked what he did. Saving lives. It doesn't get better than this, right?

And that's why it made him feel so helpless when one of those days come- days when despite everything- the job and the friends and the books and everything- he felt so utterly, completely lonely.

So lonely that it was crippling, exhausting. So lonely that it drove him to enter a random bar at 9 o'clock at night just because he knew it was full of people, human beings. And it sank in even deeper then, staring vacantly at the vibrating, pulsing _life_ going on all around him that being in a room full of laughing, talking strangers was no better than being in his empty apartment.

Spencer stood up. 'I…I should go.'

'Oh, come on!', said the brunette, 'You've been sitting alone forever. You don't have to drink. How about I drink and you listen while I tell you', she eyed his face, 'what great bones you have.'

You didn't have to be a profiler to read this girl. She was desperate, and lonely.

On paper, just like him. On paper, he should say yes. On paper, he should chat the girl up. On paper, he should leave the bar with this girl.

But no.

'I appreciate the implied compliment, but I can't stay. I'm sorry. Thanks again for the offer.'

He left the disappointed girl behind and walked out in the cold night.

And then, to his shame, he had second thoughts. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. Why hadn't he agreed?

It was not because he couldn't talk to girls. He might not know what to talk _about_ and mess that aspect up, but he would never get tongue-tied or nervous. It was in his job description. They often needed to smooth-talk an unsub to surrendering.

It was not because some 'Spencer Reid does NOT have one night stands' thing. Spencer was strongly against generalizing, stereotyping. 'He's this kind of guy, so he has this kind of life.' No, he believed anyone can do anything if the circumstances are right (or wrong).

Neither was it because of Maeve. He still loved her, yes, but he had learned a long time ago when loved ones go away, the sooner you can let go, the better. It doesn't mean you love them any less, it means you love them the right way.

Easier said than done, yes, but would it hurt to try?

In the end, Spencer knew why he hadn't agreed. It wasn't any outer force, it was himself.

There was a reason he never joined the pity party- people were right. He WAS different, people were right in seeing him that way. If they didn't, _he _wouldn't feel comfortable. He wouldn't fit. Like he hadn't with this girl.

No, it was not some superiority complex. Spencer did not think he was better than everybody, that he deserved special treatment. Not that.

Neither did he feel everyone else was below his level, that he was too smart. Not that either.

Rather, it was a mismatch. His brain, and to an extent his experience at his job, made him see things differently. He could look at something and his brain would see a thousand different things at once- bits of history, information, statistics, what he did and didn't know about it and why…but most people would just see the thing itself and nothing.

This happened with everything, and he felt like he was on a different dimension. A mismatch with everyone else. And he needed the reassurance that you knew that he was _supposed_ to be on a different dimension. That's when he was comfortable.

And he made friends when you could step into that dimensions. Maeve did it by being as smart. His co-workers did it by accepting and celebrating his mismatch- his genius. Also, they fought the same demons as his.

But other than that, he was lonely.

Not always, no. He read, He learned even more stuff, he played his electronic keyboard (he was pretty good by now), he listened to music, he went to see obscure plays and shows and exhibitions, and he was fine.

And then came one of those days when he was…not. So very, very not.

Oddly enough, Spencer felt ashamed on those days. He hated the fact that he felt the need to be with someone. He hated the fact that right now all of his friends were enjoying the early wrap-up (Hotch with Jack, Morgan with Savannah, Garcia with Sam, JJ with Will and Henry, Kate with Chris and Meg, and Rossi was apparently pursuing a Jazz singer) and he felt frustrated because he didn't want to ruin it for any of them, but there was no one else. The two people he loved the most were both out of reach. One was miles away in a different city, the other was dead.

_I have nowhere to go. No one to go to._

Spencer Reid absolutely despised the thought.

It wasn't independent, it wasn't romantic, it was pathetic and shameful.

And even more embarrassing was the fact that sometimes it scared him, sometimes he thought this might be forever.

He tried to reassure himself- he was only 34. There was still time to…to what? Make more friends? Find someone?

Finding someone. The dull pain that he had been carrying ever since Maeve's death came back with full force then- intense, ruthless, gnawing at his inside, leaving him gasping for breath. He found her, and he failed to save her. She told her 'Love you'. He told her 'I don't love you. Sorry.' The memory was so painful he was forced to push it out of his mind, or else he wouldn't survive.

He found someone once. Someone who suited, who fitted. He couldn't hold on. Could he ever get so lucky again?

That's when he thought of someone else. And he smiled faintly. This was one that could have worked- theoretically. She worked with the same horrible cases- she knew what it was like- and she'd always been wonderful to him.

JJ.

He used to have a little crush on her when he joined. And they went on that Redskins game together. But there was never any second date- not just because he was too shy to ask her, also because theories didn't always hold up in real world. Dating co-workers was against the rules and neither of them wanted to risk it. At least Spencer knew he didn't.

They became best friends in the end, and Spencer was happy with that. He didn't think of her that way anymore. His smile was fond, not bitter.

It was days like this that were cursed, because in these days he doubted everything, second-guessed every decision. And while everything seemed right in theory, again, in the real world, they summed up to deliver him this moment, this moment of desperate loneliness.

'We're all alone at the end of the day.', he reminded himself as he took tired steps to his apartment. 'And it's normal to feel lonely because it's basic human instinct to crave human company, but it will go away.' Most of the time he was too busy to feel lonely, to be honest.

He would read when he got home. It would be surprisingly difficult because he didn't feel like doing _anything_ in days like these, but he would force himself to get into it.

Books don't leave. Books don't die. Books are always there for you.

And while it's true that they don't talk back, laugh with you or give you a hug when you need one, Dr. Spencer Reid refused to be pessimistic.

The gloom might be overpowering now, but it wasn't forever. He would wait.

In the meantime, books would suffice- regardless of their inability to respond. He was never much of a hugger anyway.


End file.
